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onoutmd 

alDo^stodt taLle 

A CHILD'S 
BOOK OF VERSE 


Written by 

ROWENA BASTIN BENNETT 

With Pictures by 

LUCILLE WEBSTER HOLLING 



■Q a. 


Thomas S. Rockwell company 

CHICAGO 

1930 


.3 

.■^ 43 ^ 

K 

F\ r 


Copyright, 1930, by 
Thomas S. Rockwell Company 
Chicago 


Printed in United State* of America 


©CIA 18820 

JAN 31 1930 



TO THE MOTHER 
WHO MADE MY 
CHILDHOOD A 
DELIGHT AND 
TO THE CHILDREN 
WHO MAKE MY 
MOTHERHOOD 
A JOY 




















THE VERSE 


Around a Toadstool Table 

13 

Under the Tent of the Sky 

17 

The Rain 

19 

Meeting the Easter Bunny 

20 

Maying Song 

22 

Rubber Boots 

24 

The Wind Giant 

27 

Spring Carnival 

28 

Pussy Willows 

29 

Dandelion Bubbles 

30 

Wind-Shod 

32 

Pan 

• \ lMr" 

34 

•M} 


7 




















THE VERSE 

Clouds 
Adventure 
Making a Rainbow 
Mrs. C 
A Fable 
Shell Castles 
The Crimson Balloon 
The Sand Castle 
The Full Moon 
Logic 

Lady Sleep 
Night 


41 

42 

45 

46 

47 

48 
52 
54 

56 

57 
59 
61 




8 
















THE VERSE 

An Autumn Play Day 

65 

Runaway River 

67 

Boats 

68 

Finding a Dream 

69 

A Brownie in a Mouse Trap 

70 

Shoon 

73 

The Airplane 

74 

The Zeppelin 

75 

Sky Harbor 

76 

Racing the Train 

78 — 

Spinning the Top 

79 

On Hallowe'en 

80 

Broomstick-Time 

82 

The New Moon 

83 



9 











THE VERSE 


The Butterfly and the Kite 

84 

A Lullaby for Carolyn 

86 

A Conversation with Jack-in^the-Box 91 

Snow 

94 

A Modern Dragon 

95 

Dream Toys 

96 

Come, Ride with Me to Toyland 

98 

Valentine People 

101 

The Falling Star 

105 

Clocks and Watches 

106 

Motor Cars 

107 

The Fairy Feast is Over 

108 



10 

















T HE Author wishes to ex¬ 
press her appreciation of 
the permission, so cordially 
given, by St. Nicholas, the Youth's 
Companion, John Martin's Book, 
the Christian Science Monitor, the 
Junior Home Magazine, and the 
Kindergarten-Primary Magazine, 
to reproduce the verses which 
originally appeared in those publi¬ 
cations. 


11 







































































































































































































































































\ 



























































































































































































AROUND A TOADSTOOL TABLE 



Around a toadstool table 
I dine with fairy kings; 
Across the moon-white hilltops 
I dance in fairy rings; 

And when I sleep, I nestle 
Where fairies fold their wings. 



13 






































16 











UNDER THE TENT OF THE SKY 

The wind cracked his whip. 

The storm flashed a gun. 

And the animal-clouds marched one by one 
Under the tent of the sky. 



There were elephants, blue. 

And shaggy white bears. 

And dozens and dozens of prancing gray mares 
With their beautiful heads held high. 



There were soft-footed panthers 
And ostriches, fluffy. 

And a great hippopotamus, purple and puffy, 
Who wallowed in mud-colored mist. 



There were small curly dogs 

And camels with humps 

And a wrinkled rhinoceros, all over bumps, 

With a horn as big as your fist. 


17 


There was even a lion 
Bedecked with a mane 

Who growled so loud that he turned into rain 
And tumbled to earth with a sigh. 



The wind cracked his whip 

And out came the sun 

And the animal-clouds passed one by one 

Out of the tent of the sky. 



18 



THE RAIN 

The rain, they say, is a mouse^gray horse 
That is shod with a silver shoe; 

The sound of his hoofs can be heard on the roofs 
As he gallops the whole night through. 


19 






MEETING THE EASTER BUNNY 

On Easter morn at early dawn 

before the cocks were crowing, 

I met a bob'tail bunnykin 

and asked where he was going, 

" Tis in the house and out the house 
a^tipsy, tipsy-toeing, 

Tis round the house and 'bout the house 
adightly I am going." 

"But what is that of every hue 
you carry in your basket?" 

" Tis eggs of gold and eggs of blue; 

I wonder that you ask it. 

Tis chocolate eggs and bonbon eggs 
and eggs of red and gray. 

For every child in every house 
on bonny Easter Day." 



20 




He perked his ears and winked his eye 
and twitched his little nose; 

He shook his tail—what tail he had— 
and stood up on his toes. 

"I must be gone before the sun; 
the east is growing gray; 

Tis almost time for bells to chime."— 
So he hippety-hopped away. 


21 





























MAYING SONG 



Come Maying, 
Come playing. 



Dear lassies, blithe and fair! 

The bud has burst, the leaf is green. 
There is no time to spare! 

Sweet May has walked across the hills 
And scattered them with daffodils. 



22 




Come singing. 

Come bringing 
Your baskets bright and gay. 
And we shall hold a carnival 
To greet the lovely May. 




Bring garlands, spring garlands. 

To strew the waiting street; 

And let none pipe who can't impart 
The magic to our feet; 

And let none sing who cannot sing 
Sweetly as Pierrot, 

For May's as young and soft of tongue 
As in the long ago. 


So out and in, and out and in 
We'll dance as light as Harlequin; 
And in her robes of Lincoln green. 
Sweet May herself will be our queen. 



23 


RUBBER BOOTS 


Little boots and big boots. 

Traveling together 
On the shiny sidewalks. 

In the rainy weather. 

Little boots and big boots. 

Oh, it must be fun 
To splash the silver raindrops 
About you as you run, 

Or scatter bits of rainbow 
Beneath the April sun! 

Big boots and little boots. 

You know how it feels 
To have the white clouds drifting 
Far below your heels; 

And it is dizzy pleasure. 

Along the way to school. 

To walk the lacy tree tops 
That lie in every pool. 

Little boots and big boots. 

How you like to putter 
In every slender streamlet 

That scampers down the gutter! 


24 


How you like to dabble 

Where the current crinkles 
And fill the flowing water 

With new and wider wrinkles; 
Or stir the yellow clay up 
To sudden, cloudy puffs 
That dull the shining surface 

With muddy browns or buffs. 

Big boots and little boots. 

Travel on together. 

Merrily go splashing 

Through April's rainy weather 1 



25 



THE WIND GIANT 


The March Wind strides in seven-league boots 
Across the snow-patched mountain sides; 
Adown the ice-bound river chutes 
The March Wind strides. 

Beneath a magic cloak he hides 

His giant form, and as he scoots. 

The helter-skelter rain he guides. 

He tramples on the tingling roots. 

His head the scurrying cloud divides. 

As in his mighty, seven-league boots 
The March Wind strides. 



26 








27 






































































































































































































































































































































































































































































SPRING CARNIVAL 



28 









PUSSY WILLOWS 

I came on them yesterday 
(merely by chance), 

Those newly born pussies, asleep 
on a branch; 

Each curled up so tight in a fluff of a ball 

That I could not see ear-points or tail-tips at all; 

But I thought that I heard, when the March wind 
was stirring, 

A soft little sound like the low note of purring. 

I wonder if they would have leaped from their bough 

And arched their wee backs with a frightened 


"Meow!" 

"" If I had dared tell them in one warning cry 




29 









Dandelion bubbles, 

Soft and white as down. 

The fairies must have blown you 
From out your pipes of brown. 


30 









They used the clouds for soap suds. 
Then, tired of their play, 

They left you on your pipe stems 
For the wind to blow away. 

A young breeze passed and saw you. 
And, feeling in a huff. 

He burst you, pretty bubbles. 

With but a single puff; 

But fairy breath is magic. 

And I've heard a whisper say 
Your million scattered fragments 
Will turn to gold some day. 






WIND-SHOD 

If I had shoes like the shoes of the wind, 

1 should walk on the top of the sea, 

And the little mermaidens would lift their heads 
And throw a kiss to me; 

But no one should stay my hurrying feet. 

For the shoes of the wind are fleet. 


32 








If I had shoes like the shoes of the wind, 

I should scamper along the grass, 

And all would wonder to hear me come 
But none should see me pass; 

For the shoes of the wind are magic shoes 
And would make me invisible should I choose. 

If I had shoes like the shoes of the wind, 

I should leap to the sky with a bound 
And shuffle the little white clouds about 
Till the rain fell on the ground; 

And oh, I should do such wonderful things, 
For the shoes of the wind have wings! 



33 







PAN 


The little god. Pan, 

Had the face of a man 
And the feet of a goat, 
Had the little god, Pan. 



He lived in the world 
When first it began; 

An odd little god 
Was the little one, Pan. 



Oh, the merry god. Pan! 
How he capered and ran 
On his little goat-feet; 

But he laughed like a man. 



He laughed as he leaped 
Through the ferns and the brakes; 
He laughed as he danced 
By the shores of the lakes. 


34 



35 







































He danced and he played 
On the pipes that he made 
From a reed, till he freed 
Echoes, shrill, from the hill; 


And the rill gaily swayed 
To the music he made, 
And the wind as it blew 
Caught the melody, too. 



Oh, the merry god, Pan! 
How he danced as he ran 
On his little goat-feet, 

To the song of a man! 


Oh, the wistful god, Pan! 
When winds rose to fan 
The flame of the sunset. 
And stars woke to span 
The hollow of heaven— 
His dreaming began. 

36 


He sat very still 
By the edge of the stream 
On his little goat^haunches— 
And what was his dream? 


Alas, I can't tell you! 

And nobody can; 

But somehow I think 
Twas the dream of a MAN. 



37 









































































































































































































































































































































































































































































CLOUDS 

The clouds are birds that nest among the stars. 
They do not sing, 
but sleep with folded wing 
Until the wind breaks through the shining bars 
Of morning, crying, “Come!" 

Then, slowly, one by one. 

They wake and fly 
Across the sky. 


41 






ADVENTURE 

A runaway road passes grandfather's gate 
And scampers away to the lea. 

I say to it, "Please, little road, won't you wait?" 

But it only cries, "Come, follow me!" 

The gate whispers, "Stay!" 

and the swing cries out, "Play!" 
But the runaway road just scampers away. 

And I'm so bewitched that I burst into laughter 
And leap the low fence to go merrily after. 


42 












I've followed before; so of course the road knows me. 
And there is no end to the secrets it shows me; 

A meadowlark's nest that every one passes 
Because it is hidden so safe in the grasses; 

A cave in the hillside for brownies to play in; 

A nook in the forest for violets to stay in, 

For jack-in-the-pulpits to linger and pray in; 

The haunt of a wood sprite in yonder tree's hollow 
And, high on the cliff side, the home of the swallow. 

And still the road beckons, and still do I follow, 
Till, all wearied out, I sit down on a stile. 



43 












And, oh, it is pleasant to rest there a while! 

But the tireless road hurries happily on 
Until at the turning it's suddenly gone. 

Oh, if it were not for my grandmother's worrying 
I'd travel right on though I'm tired of hurrying; 

I'd see what's behind every twisting and bending 
Until I had followed the road to its ending! 

And where does it lead, do you really suppose? 
Perhaps into Fairyland; nobody knows. 

But when I'm grown up I shall find where it goes— 
Shall follow and see all its wonders unfurled. 

It will lead me adventuring over the world 1 



44 




MAKING A RAINBOW 

Run, clouds, run; 

Hide the shining sun. 

Bump your curly heads together 
For we want some rainy weather, 
Just for fun. 

Blow, wind, blow; 

Make the dark clouds go. 

When you have unveiled the sun 
And the little storm is done, 

Bend your bow. 

Bend your bow of many hues. 
Golds and indigos and blues; 
Then walk off on quiet shoes. 

Go, wind, go. 


45 



MRS. C. 

(OR ANY OTHER TOO PRACTICAL PERSON.) 

She never met a fairy. 

She never knew a gnome. 

And if she were to travel 
From Labrador to Rome, 

The wee folk, the good folk. 

The pixies and the elves. 

Would only look askance at her 
And titter to themselves. 

And if, in some deserted spot. 

They took her by surprise, 

She'd only blame her spectacles 
Or rub her doubting eyes, 

And say she'd got the dust in them. 

Oh, she can knead good bread 
And bake it light, and in the night 
Work patterns with fine thread; 
But her knowledge of the fairy folk 
Is sadly limited. 



46 




A FABLE 

A willow tree 
once bent to look 

At her own image 
in a brook. 

"I am the fairest tree/' 
she cried, 

"In all the wooded 
countryside I" 

Just then a rogue wind 
chanced to pass 

And trampled on 
her looking-glass. 

When next she looked, 
she was not flattered; 

Her mirror and her 
pride were shattered. 















SHELL CASTLES 



A sea shell is a castle 
Where a million echoes roam, 
A wee castle. 

Sea castle, 

Tossed up by the foam; 

A wee creature's. 

Sea creature's, 

Long deserted home. 



If I were very tiny, 

I should walk those winding halls 
And listen to the voices 

In the pink and pearly walls; 

And each mysterious echo 
Would tell me salty tales 
Of the phosphorescent fishes 
And the white-winged ship that sails 
On the sea's brim 
Round the earth's rim 
To the lilting of the gales; 


48 





49 
























Of the sea horse 
That's a wee horse 
And frolics in the sea 
'Neath the coral 
White and sorrel 
That is the mermaids' tree; 
And grazes on the seaweed 
And the sea anemone; 



50 





But my ears cannot distinguish 
The words it sings to me, 

The sea shell. 

The wee shell, 

I hold so reverently, 

And I only hear a whisper 

Like the ghost voice of the sea. 




51 






THE CRIMSON BALLOON 

The crimson balloon was a headstrong young thing; 
He jostled his brothers and tugged at his string 
And said to his master, "Let go of my tail. 

And over the tops of the houses I'll sail. 


52 















I'll ride on a cloud and I'll visit the moon 
(He is nothing himself but a silver balloon). 

I'll bump him down into this crookedy street 
And shine in his place with the world at my feet." 



Just then came the wind with a cough and a sneeze 
That blew him up into the pin-cushion trees 


Where, BANG! he collapsed with a terrible sound 
And wizened and shriveled, he sank to the ground. 



53 







THE SAND CASTLE 


I built a golden castle 
In the sand upon the shore 
And I hung a silver sea shell 
For a trumpet by the door; 
And my castle was so splendid 
That the wind, in passing by. 
Walked on tiptoe, lest he crush it 
And the sea birds, sailing high. 
Paused a moment, just to see it. 
For there had not been before 
Such a stately golden castle 
In the sand upon the shore; 



54 


But the sea became an ogre 
Who rose and trampled o'er 
Wall and rampart, moat and drawbridge 
Of my castle on the shore. 

And I even heard him laughing 
With a kind of guttural sound 
As he hastily retreated 

From that drab and shapeless mound. 

Then I took my tiny trumpet 
And I thought me of a rune 
That an ancient book had taught me. 
And I sang it to the tune 
Of a witch song, for I realized 
Only magic could disarm 
Such an ogre; and an hour 
Proved the power of my charm. 

For the tide slipped down to nothing, 
And I heard a muffled roar 
In the little silver sea shell 
That had graced my castle door. 

I had quite transformed that ogre 
By the magic of my spell, 

And he roared, a midget captive, 

In the hollow of my shell. 


55 



in the bowl of the sky 


And burst when the first cock 
woke to cry. 



56 









57 



































58 




















































LADY 

SLEEP 



Sleep walks over the hill, 

A lady fair and frail. 

When evening mists are chill, 
When the early moon is pale, 
Sleep walks over the hill. 



Her hair is like a veil 

And her feet are shadow-still. 
The flowers close their eyes 

When sleep walks over the hill. 



She is beautiful and wise. 

And the lonely places fill 
With a hush that is deeper than sighs 
When sleep walks over the hill. 



Sleep walks in at the door. 

And the leaping fire dies. 

And the little lights go out 
Like tired fireflies. 

And the house-dog curls on the floor 
When sleep walks in at the door. 


59 


Sleep walks in at the door 

And she neither speaks nor sings. 
But her breath is sweeter than song 
And folded are her wings; 

And the children play no more 
When sleep walks in at the door. 


60 


NIGHT 


Night is a giant gardener 
Who does his work on high; 

His black soil is the darkness, 

His garden is the sky. 

The four winds are his shovel. 

The stars, his scattered seeds; 

And when the clouds go blowing by 
He's digging up his weeds. 

He pulls the moon up by the roots. 
And when his work is done 

There blooms one great, big flower 
That people call THE SUN. 



61 




































AN AUTUMN PLAY DAY 

Oh, Mother, may I go and play? 

For all the world is playing; 
The little leaves have run away, 
And I can see them straying 
In crimson shoes across the lawn. 
Or practicing balleting. 



The shadows play at hide and seek 
Between the rows of stubble. 
And every thistle stem has blown 
A white and foamy bubble. 



Around their holes the little moles 
All play at blind man's buffing; 
The wind is turning somersaults 
With panting and with puffing. 


65 


The chipmunks play a light croquet 
And scamper through the thickets. 
With partridge berries for their balls 
And bended twigs for wickets. 



A dozen squirrels with tails in curls 
And feet both swift and nimble 
Have found a little acorn cup 
For playing hide the thimble. 


I would run and join the fun 
Without the least delaying; 
Please, Mother, let me go and play. 
For all the world is playing. 



66 


RUNAWAY RIVER 


CHILD: 

"Runaway river, oh, why are you running. 

Running and sunning yourself as you go? 

Why do you dartle and quiver and startle 
The silver-scaled fish that are sleeping below? 
Why do you hurry and scamper and scurry 
Over the hill in a torrent of foam? 

Are you not grieving to think you are leaving 
The beautiful mountain that once was your home? 

RIVER: 

"I go to the ocean, the infinite ocean, 

The god of all rivers that beckons to me; 

There to be schooled in the music of motion 
There to grow fair in the light of the sea— 

Golden by sunlight and silver by moonlight. 

Gray in the dawning and blue in the eve, 

I shall be part of the wonder of wonders. 

Why should I hesitate, why should I grieve 
At leaving my home-land, no matter how sweet? 

For I shall grow wise 'neath the dome of the skies 
With the moon at my breast and the stars at my feet. 



67 







BOATS 


The steamboat is a slow poke, 

You simply cannot rush him. 

The sailboat will not move at all 
Without a wind to push him; 

But the speed boat, with his sharp red nose. 
Is quite a different kind; 

He tosses high the spray and leaves 
The other boats behind. 


68 











FINDING A DREAM 


Where shall I find 

a beautiful dream? 

In the moon's cupboard. 

But how shall I scheme 
To capture the moon? 

In the net of a tree. 

How open the cupboard 
without any key? 

Build you a ladder, 
a ladder of sleep, 

And when you have climbed it, 
pluck from the deep 
Basin of heaven 

the reddest of stars. 
THIS is the key 

that unfastens the bars 
Of ALL the moon's cupboards, 
so choose for yourself 
The rosiest dream 

from the rosiest shelf. 


69 






A BROWNIE 
IN A MOUSE TRAP 

I set a little mouse trap 
To catch a little mouse. 
For I had heard a scuffling 
Of little feet a-shuffling 
About my quiet house. 

So—I set a little mouse trap 
To catch a little mouse. 


70 













But when the daylight flickered 
Across my window sill, 

And little winds came rustling 
Through trees where birds were 
bustling. 

Or singing gay and shrill, 

1 rose to greet the morning 
And then—what should I see! 
A Brownie in my mouse trap— 
Oh, goodness, gracious me! 

I'd caught him by his coat-tails. 
I'd caught him by his shoe— 
He shook his little fists at me. 

Alas, what could I do? 

Too late I had discovered 
That it was not a mouse 
That visited me nightly 
And tiptoed, oh, so lightly 
About my quiet house. 



71 






I hurried to release him— 

He was too quick for me; 
With one heroic struggle 
He wrenched his body free. 
He leapt upon the window-sill 
(Now golden with the day) 
And like the dandelion down 
He blew himself away. 

I kept his little coat-tails, 

I kept his little shoe, 

The one, it was a maple leaf. 
The other, a carnation sheaf 


(The tiniest that grew.) 



Since then I have not seen him 
In coat-tails or in blouse; 

But should I hear a scuffling 
Of little feet a-shuffling 
About my quiet house, 

I would not set a mouse trap 
To catch a little mouse. 


72 




SHOON 

The frost wears silver slippers; 

The rain wears mouse-gray shoes; 
But the ragged wind goes barefoot 
And wades in shining dews. 


73 



THE AIRPLANE 


An airplane has gigantic wings 
But not a feather on her breast; 

She only mutters when she sings 
And builds a hangar for a nest. 

I love to see her stop and start; 

She has a little motor heart 

That beats and throbs and then is still. 

She wears a fan upon her bill. 

No eagle flies through sun and rain 
So swiftly as an airplane. 

I wish she would come swooping down 
Between the steeples of the town 
And lift me right up off my feet 
And take me high above the street. 
That all the other boys might see 
The little speck that would be me. 


74 







THE ZEPPELIN 


The Zeppelin, the Zeppelin! 

He has a fish's tail 
And fish's nose, so I suppose 
He does not need a sail. 

The Zeppelin, the Zeppelin! 

He is a flying fish. 

The foaming clouds break over him, 
The little breezes swish 
Against him like the sea waves. 

Oh, how he loves to swim 
Across the sky, and some day I 
Shall take a ride on him. 


75 






SKY HARBOR 



There's a tower at Sky Harbor, 

And the tower wears a light 
That all the singing planes may find 
Their way to port at night. 



They come like homing pigeons. 
They come from East and West, 
The light is like a mother bird 
That calls them to the nest. 



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RACING THE TRAIN 

I race him down the platform. 
The puffing, snorting train. 

He takes so long at starting 
That it's not hard to gain 
At first, but when his steam is up 
He's haughty as can be; 

He chuckles hoarsely to himself 
Because he's passing me. 


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SPINNING THE TOP 


Spin, Top! Spin! 

My string is white and thin; 
You are red and stout; 

111 wind you al! about 
And toss you on your pin. 
Spin, Top! Spin! 



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ON HALLOWE'EN 

Who would ride a broomstick 
As the witches do— 

Straight across the pebbly stars 
On a street of blue? 

I should! I should! 

(If mother came, too). 


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Who would take a wildcat 
With eyes all yellow-green 
To ride upon his broomstick 
Late on Hallowe'en? 

I should! I should! 

(If mother sat between). 



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BROOMSTICK-TIME 


On Hallowe'en the witches fly 
Like withered leaves across the sky. 

Each with a broomstick for a steed 
That gallops at tremendous speed. 
Although I don't approve of witches 
Who wear tall hats and live in ditches. 
Still I am glad there is a day 
When broomsticks have a chance to play. 



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83 







THE BUTTERFLY 
AND THE KITE 

FROM A RUSSIAN FABLE 

KITE: 

Oh, I am a kite 

with a face and a tail! 

I fly without wings 

at the front of the gale; 

Over the trees 

and the housetops I sail. 

For I am a kite 

with a hood and a tail. 

See that poor butterfly 
down in the clover, 

Beating her fragile wings 
over and over; 

Hello, Butterfly, 

don't you wish you were I 

Sporting about in the blue 
of the sky? 



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BUTTERFLY: 


Hello, foolish Kite; 

why, of course it is true 
That from such a height 
you've a beautiful view; 

It must be delightful 
up there in the blue. 

Yet I should not care 

to change places with you; 
For freedom there is 

in a butterfly's wing. 

But you, slavish creature, 
are tied to a string! 



A LULLABY FOR CAROLYN 


Sleep, pretty Carolyn, lullaby, sleep— 

All little creatures that flutter or creep 
Out in the sunlight have now gone to sleep. 

All little creatures that sleep the day long 
Waken to sing you a beautiful song, 

Waken to join me with chirping and cheep 
In a "Sleep, pretty Carolyn, lullaby, sleep." 

Rest, pretty Carolyn, slumber and rest— 

A dream clad in crimson comes out of the west, 
A dream from the moon in silver comes dressed 
Singing, 

"Rest, pretty Carolyn, slumber and rest." 

Hush, pretty Carolyn, hushaby, hush— 

The wind travels by in slippers of plush, 
Stepping so lightly no flower to crush. 

Singing so sweetly, "Hush, Carolyn, hush!" 



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A CONVERSATION WITH JAOGIN/THE^BOX 



CHILD: 


Jack'iivthe-Box, you're a dashing young fellow. 
Dressed in your jacket of scarlet and yellow; 

Your bow is most courtly, your wit is beguiling; 

I never have seen you when you were not smiling. 
Then tell me, dear Jack, is there truth in the rumor 
That you are so rapt in your own sense of humor 
That you are content to be shut in a box 
With walls that are dark and a cover that locks? 
That you are content to wait long hours through 
All for the moment when, leaping to view. 

You may startle us children by shouting out, "Bool"? 


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JACK: 


Dear child, I am supple and light as a bubble 
And really don't mind being bent nearly double; 

But as I'm considered both handsome and gallant 
I have no intention of wasting my talent. 

When you and your brothers and sisters are sleeping. 
And moonlight and shadow are stealthily creeping 
Into the nursery—'tis then I come leaping 
Out of my box, with a laugh that is hearty. 

And rally the dolls for a wonderful party. 

You should see my feet as they merrily twinkle 
Over the floor to the jingle and tinkle 
Of your little music-box, magically playing; 

You should see the other dolls dancing and swaying— 
The rag-doll who moves with considerable flopping, 
The little toy rabbit who dances by hopping. 

The stiff wooden soldier, the limp paper dolly— 

All make up a party decidedly jolly; 

But I am, of course, the most graceful of all. 

I lead the grand march, and the belle of the ball 
(A lovely wax lady from over the sea) 

Is flattered to dance with a partner like me, 

Till the barking of dogs and the crowing of cocks 
Sends her to her pillow and me to my box. 


93 


SNOW 


The snow is a bird, softTeathered and white. 
Silent and graceful is her flight 
As she swoops to earth and spreads her wings 
Over the beautiful unborn things: 

Seeds and bulbs that soon will tower 
Out of the nest of the ground, and flower. 



94 











A MODERN DRAGON 

A train is a dragon that roars through the dark. 
He wriggles his tail as he sends up a spark. 

He pierces the night with his one yellow eye. 
And all the earth trembles when he rushes by. 


95 











DREAM TOYS 


A little dream child in a little red dress 
Walks out of the sunset's loveliness 
And tiptoes her way through the nursery door 
And scatters her playthings all over the floor; 

A ball made of silver, clean-cut from the moon, 

A cricket's wee fiddle, a shadow balloon 
That drifts to the ceiling; and ribbons of stars 
She ties to the curtains or flings on the bars 
Of somebody's bed; a fairy's lost fan, 

A whistle the wind made, but dropped as he ran. 
And even a dream-horse with one hobby-hoof. 

Who leaps through the window to prance on the roof. 
All of these things, and a great many more. 

The dream child drops down on the carpeted floor. 
Then she calls to the girls and she calls to the boys 
Asleep in the nursery, "Come, play with my toys. 
All night I shall leave them, all night you may play. 
But when it is morning I'll take them away." 



96 


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COME, RIDE WITH ME 
TO TOYLAND 



Come, ride with me to Toyland, 
For this is Christmas Eve, 

And just beyond the Dream Road 
(Where all is make-believe) 
There lies a truly Toyland, 

A real and wondrous Joyland, 

A Little-Girl-and-Boy Land, 

Too lovely to conceive! 



There Christmas fairies plant a tree 
That blossoms forth in stars 
And comes to fruit in sugarplums; 
There dolls and balls and painted drums 
And little trains of cars 
All stand and wait for you and me 
Beneath the shining wonder-tree. 


98 


So saddle up your hobby horse 
And ride across the night. 

The thundering of our coursers' hoofs 
Will put the moon to flight; 

And when the east is kitten-gray 
We'll sight that wondrous Joyland, 
And at the break of Christmas Day 
We'll gallop into Toyland! 



99 




VALENTINE PEOPLE 


There was a lovely ladykin, 

No bigger than a minute, 

Who sat and played a minuet 
Upon a tiny spinet; 

Her hair was powdered white as snow, 
She wore a dress of long ago 
With satin flowers in it. 

She lived upon a valentine 
Behind a paper shutter, 

And, though she played so charmingly. 
Her spinet did not utter 
A single sound; but as she sat 
Her heart was all a-flutter. 

For just outside her window 
Stood a cavalier in yellow, 

He was a very handsome and 
A chivalrous young fellow. 

He stood with tricorn hat in hand. 

In attitude most charming, 

And listened to the music with 
A rapture quite alarming, 
Considering no music stirred 
Except the soft repeating 


100 




101 



















Of his own heart, which played a tune 
In very rapid beating. 

"Alas/' thought he, " 'tis blasphemy 
To blame one's own creator. 

And mine a lady artist, too; 

But truly, I do hate her! 

To think that she should have the heart 
To paint us two so far apart! 

It really would have done no harm 
To draw the lady on my arm; 

But there she is, inside the folder. 

And through the window I behold her. 
Yet cannot go and get acquainted; 

My knees are far too stiffly painted. 

And it would be my own undoing 
Were I to shout my words of wooing/' 
And so he stood with pulses burning 
The while the lady sat in yearning. 

And so they might have stayed forever 
If fate had not been quite so clever. 

One day there came with skip and hop 
A laddie to the ten-cent shop 
And bought the very valentine 


102 


Whereon the lovers seemed to pine. 

He sealed it up, the reckless scamp. 

And mailed it with a postage stamp. 

The postman took it to the gate 
Of Mary Jane, a lass of eight. 

You should have seen her two eyes shine 
When she beheld that valentine! 

And, being equal to her years. 

She promptly went to fetch the shears. 
Then, with a most triumphant shout, 
She cut our lovely lady out. 



103 


























Her mother sighed and gently told her 
It was a shame to spoil the folder; 

But Mary thought it was no folly 
To have so nice a paper dolly. 

And straightway trimmed the cavalier 
(Her scissors just escaped his ear 
And made some rather awkward slips 
Across his manly finger tips). 

And, though this was of course a trial. 

He bore it with a beaming smile. 

For now his barrier was scissored. 

And Mary, like a knowing wizard, 

The couple to her dolls' house carried 
And in great splendor had them married. 
And there they lived in love and laughter, 
A happy couple ever after! 



104 















THE FALLING STAR 


I saw a star fall out of bed 
(Foolish little sleepy head!) 

She kicked off her cloudy quilt 
And her cradle gave a tilt; 

The purple blankets of the night 
Were not tucked about her tight. 
So she fell, her golden hair 
Streaming after, through the air. 
I'd hate to be a star and fall 
Where there is no floor at all. 



105 



CLOCKS AND WATCHES 


Clocks can never hide from me, 
Because the stupid dears 
Click their little tongues so much, 
I find them with my ears. 



I tiptoe through the door 
And listen at the keyhole 
Of every bureau drawer. 

I find it by the noise it makes. 

Watches cannot play 
Hide and seek as thimbles can— 
They give themselves away. 


106 


























MOTOR CARS 


From a city window, 'way up high, 

I like to watch the cars go by. 

They look like burnished beetles, black, 

That leave a little muddy track 
Behind them as they slowly crawl. 
Sometimes they do not move at all 
But huddle close with hum and drone 
As though they feared to be alone. 

They grope their way through fog and night 
With the golden feelers of their light. 


107 




THE FAIRY FEAST IS OVER 



The fairy feast is over now, 

The stars have sputtered out. 
And I am left in solitude 
Who dared express a doubt; 

I who have often feasted here. 
Beneath the fairy tree, 

I am no longer one of them— 
They, hayedeserted me. 







1 asked how they could be so old 
And yet so young and wise; 

They all drew back and looked at me 
Too stunned to make replies. 

I asked how magic could be hid 
Within a foolish rhyme; 

They said I'd grown too old for them 
(Who are as old as time). 

And still I was not satisfied. 

But begged them to explain 

Why fairy laughter rippled like 
The wind across the plain; 

Why fairy footsteps sounded like 
The patter of the rain. 

They ran away and left me here 
And will not come again. 



109 
















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